Screwed Up
by WinterKuuro
Summary: '-Raphael's amber hues stared down at the floor, eyes scattering over the different shapes and cracks on the ground for some kind of answer to what exactly was going on. Had he finally made his father crack? Out of all the stupid things he had done...-'


_Well this was a mega brain burst, I had to get it out of my head so I wrote this. AGAIN! I started it like...two nights ago at about 4:00 am after I posted the prologue of my chapter story for an insane need to cure boredom._

_So yes, this was bred by boredom and sleep deprivation. ENJOY MY MUSH =D_

_Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN! I only own the writing, and with good reason! I SPENT AGES WRITING IT GAAH._

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**-Screwed Up-**

For as long as he could remember, his father had never hit him.

It wasn't as if he was a perfect child, no he was way beyond that. Hell he thought he deserved to be hit every once in a while with the stuff that he did, but his father always saw that words were more powerful then any form of physical discipline, besides their ninjutsu training that was.

So the hit came as a shock for both of them, the loud crack of skin against skin as Raphael's head snapped to the side, cheek burning from the contact, but not dareing to move a muscle to sooth it. Splinter stared wide eyed at his son, hand tingling from the slap, arm still thrown to the side, as if it was frozen straight after the action.

It was as if the sound had settled silence over the dojo, the red banded turtle couldn't see what the others were doing, but he could _feel _them staring at him. Just watching and waiting as the previous waves of anger slid to the floor and escaped, leaving behind a bundle of confused emotion in it's wake.

Raphael's amber hues stared down at the floor, eyes scattering over the different shapes and cracks on the ground for some kind of answer to what exactly was going on. Had he finally made his father crack? Out of all the stupid things he had done...

Splinter moved, Raphael flinched.

The action blanketed the old rat with sadness, ears pinning back against his head as he snatched his hand back to his chest "Raphael?" he questioned gently, trying to bring his passionate son out of what ever stupor he'd buried himself in "Raphael, answer me" he tried more firmly, standing up straight, his hands clutching the head of his walking stick tightly.

"I-...I'm okay" he muttered weakly, eyes still wide with confusion

What did he even do?

Trembling lightly, he clenched and unclenched his fists, eyebrows furrowing in confusion "I-I don't understand-" he cut himself off with a wince as he closed his eyes tightly, shame sagging onto his shoulders.

Splinter never hit them.

Never.

"My son" he started hoarsely, but didn't finish as he felt the curious but confused stares of his other three sons behind him. Quickly he narrowed his eyes behind him, watching as the three quickly scattered within a few seconds and retreated to their rooms.

But when he turned around, Raphael was no longer there.

The rat master frowned sadly, bowing his head slightly in shame "You did not deserve that..." he whispered to himself, trying to remember what exactly triggered such a reaction.

He'd been angry, he'd been thinking about something that made him burn with the feeling. It had crept up on him too quickly to even really register control. The red banded turtle had been standing there- No, he had been running after Michelangelo. The usual triad following something that his lighthearted son had done out of boredom.

_-His youngest always had a way to push the little emerald green turtles buttons...-_

Raphael had caught him, and _kicked_ him. The force of the hit itself sent Michelangelo back with a yelp.

_-Such a fierce reaction caused a bit of a stir in Splinter, he'd have to punish Raphael, an extra training session would do. He couldn't let him think it was okay to smack his brothers, even if they were being annoying...he couldn't let Raphael think violence was the answer...-_

He had seen violence between his sons before, it was nothing new that one of them would hit each other out of frustration. They were always well placed hits, never breaking the skin, but always with enough power to deter the other away from what ever they were doing. It was their own form of discipline with each other, just a brief reminder of when enough was enough and that was it.

So why had he reacted so?

_-He had already flipped Raphael onto his shell with an easy manoeuvre, the amber eyes set themselves with determination as he struggled to jump back up of his shell...he was still little, he would learn an easier way to get himself up in time...-_

The furry mutant had jumped in as smooth as water to break up the fight once Raphael had gotten his younger brother in a grapple. Michelangelo had cheered for his supposed _win _and scattered off while the older took his defeat in bristling anger.

_-Again_

_And again_

_Raphael ended back into his shell. A simple move such as just stepping out of the way was sending the young ninja off of his feet._

_Snarling, a loose animalistic roar tore away from the tot, darting towards his master like a demon out of hell, trying in almost desperation to get past his fathers defence. Leonardo could do it...Raphael just couldn't find the patience...-_

That was it. That look that had done it. Such an emotion dancing behind the amber hues he loved so dearly, that expression of malice intent that made the old rat's hand twitch, arms squeezing themselves closer to his body from the sudden chill it caused.

At that moment he was not his son, that look only fit to dawn the face of the Shredder.

He needed to get rid of it.

_-The young one stumbled back onto the floor, those bright eyes alight with pain and confusion. The tattletale sting on his cheek where the red was starting to spread over his skin...-_

A thought? A _memory_...

_-"Raphael"_

_"I-..." he lowered his head, his features trembling in shock "I'm sorry...I'll do better next time..."-_

Splinter never hit his sons in that way...

_-With a quick bow, the turtle scampered out of the room, shutting himself away in his room to deal with his confusion and pain before Splinter got the chance to apologise. It was a quick strike to the face, but it held so much more meaning to Raphael. _

_Why was he the screw up?-_

The rat pulled his shoulders back and lifted his head, the feeling of guilt and uncertainty filling the lair from all of his sons. Splinter was no where near the perfect father, he had made mistakes with his children just as many parents do. Sometimes he was wrong, sometimes he screwed up. He'd hit Raphael once before, and the biggest screw up of all was that he never apologized. His own pride, temper and confusion from the action crippled him and lead him to just ignore it.

In some ways Raphael took after his father a lot more then he knew.

_-Taking in a deep breath, the tired rat headed to his room to retire for the night...-_

Splinter's ears twitched with faint nervousness, hand resting on the door knob of his sons room.

He would not make the same mistake again.

His son was not a screw up.

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_Oh and yes, I guess I should point out that Raphael doesn't remember Splinter slapping him once before. Believe me, my mum slapped me when I bit my little sister and I don't have a single memory of it, and I was old enough! lol, ahh young minds and their forgetfulness..._

_R&R YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLES! M'hungry...and it's dark...and wolves are after me..._


End file.
